


What you need on a winter day

by Lullabylily



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gift Fic, HP: EWE, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lullabylily/pseuds/Lullabylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas + ice + silly Harry and snarky Draco + snogging…<br/>Written for Writcraft for the 2011 HD_Seasons StockingFiller exchange fest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What you need on a winter day

**What you need on a winter’s day**  
  
Harry had never thought he'd see Draco Malfoy fail at looking graceful. With long limbs and an always-straight posture, he'd looked elegant even when Harry had been convinced he was a right git. Even in the broken young man Harry had encountered at the tail end of the Battle of Hogwarts there had been traces of that Malfoy grace. His eyes cast on the ground; fear surely coursing through his veins, Draco Malfoy had still managed to stay _Malfoy_ , with that telltale aristocratic elegance.   
  
 _This_  Draco wasn't graceful. Adorable; yes, frantic; definitely, but not graceful, Harry thought when Draco went down for the umpteenth time, cursing loudly.  
  
This time Draco didn't get up, instead he looked up at Harry with a large pout.  
  
"There is no point in getting up. I'll just go down again."  
  
"That  _is_  the point, Draco. If you stay upright ice skating for the first time, you're doing something wrong."  
  
Draco glared and Harry laughed, carefully skating closer to where Draco was still sitting on the ice. He reached out hand to pull Draco up. With a sigh, Draco took it, his gloved hand wrapping around Harry's. When Draco tried to pull himself up, however, it quickly became clear that Harry didn't have the balance to provide such leverage. His skates giving out on the slippery ice, he was catapulted forward, very nearly landing on top of Draco.  
  
"Useless," Draco snarled at him as soon as Harry looked up, dazed, bum sore from the fall.  
  
Harry grimaced, "My arse is going to be purple in the morning."  
  
"Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?" Draco quipped.  
  
Harry's eyes darkened, "Definitely," he said huskily.  
  
Draco smirked at him; that knowing I-know-damn-well-I'm-brilliant-in-bed look Harry didn't mind one bit.  
  
Just when it seemed like the mood had been lifted, they were both sprayed with something wet and cold. Rapidly melting bits of ice ran down Harry and Draco’s faces, leaving a cold trail everywhere the freezing water could reach.   
  
A young man dressed in a black-and-gold, formfitting outfit had come to an abrupt half in front of him, creating a small snowstorm of ice when he'd dug his blades.  
  
He laughed at their stunned faces. "You're in my way, losers," he cackled, a nasty grin plastered on his. He barely cast them another glance before he was off, flying across the ice with ridiculous speed and grace. Harry watched as the man fearlessly flung his body into a jump: flying high, rotating quickly in the air and then proceeding to nearly land on top of two terrified old ladies.  
  
"What an arsehole!" Draco exclaimed. He'd gone all red and furious, the way he always did whenever he was outwitted by a Muggle.  
  
"He has a  _nice_  arse, actually," Harry said thoughtfully, as he admired the view. Those scrawny figure skating outfits really didn't leave a lot to the imagination.  
  
"That's it, you're no longer my boyfriend anymore," Draco scowled.  
  
"Aww, what about that nice rimming you promised earlier?" Harry asked, ruffling his gloved fingered through Draco's uncharacteristically messy hair.  
  
"Tough. You can try your luck with Mister Muggle Olympics there," Draco scathed.  
  
Harry laughed, the feeling of joy bubbling up his throat. The happy sensation wasn't unfamiliar by now, yet it still surprised Harry that he could feel this carefree.  
  
Something odd and silent passed through Draco's eyes, as if he'd been able to read Harry's thoughts. "Let's go," Draco said finally, "before I freeze my balls off."  
  
Harry let out a snort of laughter, "I do have a vested interest in keeping your balls unharmed," he agreed.  
  
There was quite a struggle, and some cursing, before they get back into an upright position. They hit the ice two more times altogether before they reached non-slippery surface.  
  
"You owe me for this," Draco muttered darkly, rubbing his knee after the last unfortunate fall.  
  
"Fine, fine,” Harry said, “I'll buy you hot chocolate.”   
  
"Make that a double hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and I'll consider forgiving you."  
  
Harry grinned, "I'll even add pie."  
  
As they stepped off the ice, Draco grabbed Harry's arm for support, his legs still a little unsteady. "I always knew my charisma made you weak in the knees," Harry boasted, earning him a swat to the head.  
  
"Prat," Draco snorted, but he leaned into Harry's embrace, finding his lips with ease.   
  
Harry responded eagerly, licking Draco’s cold lips until his tongue could dip into the hot cavern of his boyfriend's mouth. Draco hummed, pushing Harry against the boards, gloved hands tugging strands of Harry’s hair from underneath the absurd hat he was wearing.   
  
The pulled apart abruptly when they heard a loud crash behind them. When they turned around to look at what had happened they were faced with the shape of the arrogant figure skater, huddled across the ice, groaning.   
  
“Get up, get up, you idiot. You’re losing points!” A tiny, middle-aged woman bellowed. His coach, Harry thought.   
  
Draco was grinning maliciously. “Perfect,” he said in that self-satisfied voice of his, as if  _he’d_  been the one to cause the fall in the first place. Maybe he had, Harry thought worried, watching the skater getting up from the corner of his eye. He would be fine.   
  
“Let’s apparate straight into our bedroom,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, his erection pressing against Harry’s side.  
  
“The things that arouse you,” Harry muttered, trying to look disapproving but the fire in his own eyes no doubt belied that notion. “We can’t use magic here, though, in front of all these muggles. And we have to return the rental skates.”  
  
Draco groaned, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Foot massage. Add that to the list.”  
  
Harry smiled.   
  
Later, when he kissed the ball of Draco’s foot, he thought he could still smell the skating rink on Draco. The scent was mixed with that of an edible massage oil Hermione gave them for his birthday and something that was uniquely Draco. Harry licked a trail down the length of Draco’s foot, it was long and pointy, like the rest of him; but watching Draco’s toes curl, they happily were one of the things Harry loved most about his boyfriend’s body.   
  
“Ticklish!” Draco yelped, as Harry’s lips brushed over a sensitive spot underneath Draco’s baby toe.   
  
“I know,” Harry grinned mischievously, his mouth finding  _all_  the places on Draco’s body that made him shiver in pleasure.  
  
Finally he came face to face with Draco again, their bodies pressed together, Draco’s legs already wrapped around Harry’s back.  
  
Slowly, achingly so, Harry sought that too-hot place inside Draco’s body and pressed one finger inside.   
  
Draco bucked into the touch, moaning, “Merlin, you fucking tease!”  
  
Harry kissed his lover silent at that, because, the long list of insults and demands aside, he really did know exactly what Draco wanted.   
  
  
The End.


End file.
